Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Search to fill the void
Mindless streams from tiny screens
So empty it hurts
@LadyRavenhill 2019
Haiku #115
sarah Oct 7
and this is how we waste our days
refreshing a page
for a notification that we know will never come
Kim Cancer Oct 7
This is not a story. This is not literature.
This is a spit in the face.
A kick in the nuts. A punch in the ***.
A shooting spree,
of consonants and vowels, aimed at snowflakes.

This is to be loathed. This is to cause anger.
This is to be deleted, blocked, downvoted, canceled and hated.
by coding corpses in Silicon Valley

It is my hope a Twitter Mob forms,
curses my name, relegates me to Louis CK status.

This is my ***** and I take it out
a dark web palm reader for the snowflakes.
This is my ***** and I take it out
to **** on the face of all Boomers, Gen Xers
and especially the Millennials and Gen Z

You who have grown with smartphones akin to limbs,
priapic pineal glands, ophthalmic screens…

You who have “emotional support animals”
I hope your emotional support animal
mauls you to death like an Alaskan grizzly bear
and you ******* die like that execrable Australian crocodile ****

You who have “safe spaces”
I want to rig your safe spaces
with prepositions, adverbial pipe bombs
and laugh as they explode like an Ariana Grande concert

Yes, YOU, you snowflakes…

You who have transformed young America
into a coddled wasteland
of mock outrage, moaning prudes

You who subscribe to video game streams on YouTube
You who pay punk *** PewDiePie his millions
while the greatest living poet in America works as a janitor!

You who fight over bathrooms
You who bastardize legitimate arguments,
shame those who marched
shame those who righteously died

You who vote Republican and Democrat
You who watch CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News
You who wish to silence creators
You who are triggered
You who can’t take a joke
You who can’t fathom opposing views
You who Yelp, write online reviews
in braille
You who protest Sarah Silverman and Dave Chappelle

You, you snowflakes: I want to reach into your toilets
to smear myself in your ****
and kick at your ***** and ***** as you whine online about my blackface

I want to punch your nose
paint myself in your blood and attack your colleges
with wadded up copies of The Naked Lunch and Tropic of Cancer

I want to hack Spotify
replace every playlist with Public Enemy on a continuous loop
and blast 2 Live Crew
from loudspeakers down every boulevard in Northern California

I want to hog-tie conservatives, make them watch *** ****
I want to hog-tie liberals, make them watch monster truck rallies

Because your phone can block
Your phone can delete
But energy cannot be destroyed

And ART, speech, thought
Are the purest form of energy
The very flesh of emotion…

Currency both malefic and supernal!

And now, snowflakes
now I tie your noose
I grind my knife to your throat
I aim my AK at your temples
Just to tell you this:

Sticks and stones can break my bones
But words will always nourish me…

Let there be commerce!
For the snowflakes...
Jon Thenes Oct 4
a respite from The You

this immense communication

step back from The Live Mould

and the ‘fright & flight’ media
Fight or Flight Hive Mind
Kayla Gallant Sep 28
Minds melting
Into a mushy stew
Becoming indistinguishable
media softens the brain
One click, two click let's count them together.
One makes you happy but many makes you famous.
A house hold name is what everybody wants to be.
A face recognized by millions and a name worth it's weight in gold.
How many clicks can you get when honesty is all that is told.
How valuable are the memories once they are sold?
The price they would pay isn't paid in gold.
So why do we do it?
All it does is drive us insane.
Why do you care so much if others call you plain?
So you dance in many circles, You mimic birds and books.
You've had troubles in a space that comes straight from your looks.
Flipping through pictures of a story meant to lul people to sleep.
All for what instant gratification?
So many clicks from a stranger, I'd call that obsession.
An invasion of privacy but then again you let them.
Now all eye's are on you and all you have is aggression.
The bad out weighs the good.
It's currency is called depression.
We've spent all of the happiness on clicks and called it a profession.
As long as it fills our ears, the ones covered in LV.
They cost us so much and now we can't afford to lose.
Click three and click four look better than before.
Click five and click six and now your as big as bricks.
Keep counting you might make it someday.
You could be famous!
They already abhor you!
Jodie Davies Sep 22
To rule you,
an army of complacent, restrained, organised youth,
it hides truth,
picking at your brain with its lies and its gold tooth.
It blinds you,
ignorant to those dying outside your bedroom.
Ask ‘What’s new?’,
though you’re living life through only hashtags and YouTube.
Deny degrading of the world that surrounds you
while the man who ***** eight walks among you.
For the time that’s been wasted
on you fabricating
a false realization
of the mess you’ve made,
$2000 and a screen
replacement later…
The grave you dug? Now you’ve dug two.
We pay attention only to a world that is virtual
Sudipta Maity Sep 11
I put my fingure on you profile bar
to see you clear and have you more closer.
That the only thing every time I do.
yesterday's tulip still in the garden.

When the account blink online
I press my side button
and go for a sleep.
It's now a Enstine relativity,
that you are busy
with someone's chat or in my dream.

It's almost full -
text in form of draft.
Unspoken word with immature love.
I wish to format my brain
with full of your picture and smile.
But the backup is store in my heart
Not in my pendrive.
You have me in your contact list
I have tag you in my all poem.
I am waiting for a morning to pickup
that yesterday's tulip still in garden.
When we connect to our loving one by only social media
Dimitris Aug 31
Craving for the attention,
of those who lost their attention,
to those who profit from attention,
by ******* up a generation,
that is lost in information,
running after each notification.

"Me me me, my my my",
the result of mass manipulation.
Next page